Steps
by scribblescribbledot
Summary: Human AU: Europe before WWI: Gilbert had loved someone, but Ludwig never found out who. Vienna: the world was changing, and their marriage was falling apart.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: all the characters belong to Hideki Himaruya

AN: This is one of the first fanfics I've ever written, and it was partially inspired by class on turn of the century Viennese society and Art. So, I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 1: Counting**

Gilbert always tucked Ludwig in at night, with a stiff kiss on the forehead and sheets wrapped a bit too tight, but he would always tuck Ludwig in. He would walk out of the room in five steps always counting. Five. Ludwig had counted them too - once or twice.

Gilbert would then close the door without making a sound.

In the morning, he arose at six and as soon as he left his bed he would then make it. Ludwig had never seen his brother's bed unmade, or with the pillows skewed, or any crinkle on the sheets. Ludwig's own bed was also always perfectly made. He would make it every morning sometimes after breakfast, but he always made his bed perfectly. If there was any flaw to it Gilbert would make sure to wordlessly smooth it out.

Lunch would always be at noon. They would sit at the kitchen table and eat in silence. Gilbert ate neatly and mechanically. He mashed his potatoes to perfection. Then they would do the dishes together – in silence.

Ludwig sometimes wondered if his brother had learned to be so precise about everything he did, even his walking, back in the military. He also wondered if it had been forced on him. He wondered if at a time before he could remember his brother had been different. He tried to recall the times when he was much younger and their grandfather still alive, the time before a fifteen-year-old Gilbert had joined the army; but much of Ludwig's memory was gone, lost when he hit his head on a vacation to the south of France.

After lunch Ludwig would help Gilbert with his work. He would mostly put the appropriate paper work in the precise stack all labeled neatly. He might also send letters his brother had written to some government official, some ally or some enemy all with written in blue ink rather than black with neat slanted words. The spaces between the words were all the same, and he always used the proper punctuation.

Ludwig's grammar and penmanship lessons consisted of hours spent trying to imitate his brother's perfect hand, down to the spaces between words.

Letters sent to the Austro-Hungarian Empire were different. They lacked formality and pleasantries and were sometimes simply labeled: _to the Prissy Aristocrat and Masculine Wench_. Gilbert did not waste his time with the proper lines and spaces in letters to them. Although there was one letter, something about a wedding he had not been invited to, offering formal congratulations, pleasantries, and well-whishes in a hand so neat it might have been typed or printed.

He had found the letter in the midst of sorting old forms and documents as his brother had instructed him to do. He figured at first it was one of his brother's official letters and started to read to see if it was still worth sending but Gilbert had taken it from his hands, almost too gently, folded it and hid it away.

That day Gilbert counted everything.

They traveled to Vienna when Ludwig was on breaks from school. Usually they would travel by train and Gilbert would mark every town on the map from Berlin to Vienna. He would count them. Ludwig would just watch the towns go by. Vienna had become new and vibrant in a very short time. There were building and statues and parks which had not been there when his father had been a child. Some said it was another Paris, but Vienna was not Paris.

When they made it to Roderich and Elizabeta's house, Gilbert would count the steps from the gate to the front door. Then, he would knock three times and let himself in. If the front door happened to be locked, Gilbert counted his steps around the house, knocked once on the kitchen window, then let himself in. Roddy and Lizzy's house consisted of the ground and first floor apartments of a new building furnished with things that had been in Roderich's family for generations.

Roddy and Lizzy had to have some sort of magic in them, or maybe it was the house, because, for good or bad, when treated with warm insults and empty threats, his brother would stop counting. He would not count steps when Lizzy led him from the kitchen to the music room or the stains on her apron or the pleats on her dress. He would just let himself led among arguments on who would have made a better knight. In the music room, Gilbert did not feel the need to recite softly the notes Roddy played, the way Ludwig was once heard him do at a concert. He would flap lopsidedly on the couch, without straightening the creases on his shirt demand and Roddy play him a victory march.

The pats Ludwig received on the head at Roddy and Lizzy's house were softer.

Their trips to Vienna were always filled with very adult activities; it was a world of music and dance. There was new art and old art and color and smoke. Gilbert smiled the whole time though. With so much life in the city, people still thought the world would end.

Ludwig knew now. He had known since the day of the letter. His brother had loved; his brother still loved one of them. Ludwig lacked the ability to figure out which one. Sometimes his curiosity would peak when he heard drunken conversations between Francis, Antonio, and his brother about the past. They all shared the same look then. Sometimes, the look in Francis's eye scared him though. It was the look of someone who knew too much and could not tell because the strength of his words would make his friend crumble. Sometimes, a boy who was almost a man, would come with Antonio but Ludwig could not look him in the eyes for there was hatred there – and queer nostalgia. Ludwig did not know what he had taken from him.

Ludwig was getting too old to be tucked in but Gilbert still did so; and he still counted the steps out of the room – five.

Roddy and Lizzy had wronged him, but Roddy and Lizzy where the only ones who would make Gilbert stop counting, stop folding, and stop trying to fix imperfections. Gilbert still loved one of them but Gilbert loved the other one as well and thus he forgave them.

Ludwig counted his steps to Feliciano's door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to Hideki Himaruya, and the Ver Sacrum was the official magazine of the Vienna Secession.

**AN:** If you want to get the most out of this chapter, or the fanfic in general, I suggest you look up the _Beethoven Frieze_. Please Review…to help me become a better writer.

_**Ver Sacrum**_

**Vienna September 1910:**

**Elizabeta:**

She had made breakfast and cleaned the house to the sound of Roderich's Piano. She could have had a cleaning staff, but she needed to keep herself entertained somehow. Roderich was playing tonight at the _Hofburgtheatre_, and most of Viennese society would be there. Luckily, tonight she would not be unaccompanied. Gilbert and little Ludwig were to arrive in an hour or two. It was not that the theatre bored her or that she had grown too used to her husband's concertos but that when she arrived, and before they left, she was to entertain the rest of the ladies.

With Gilbert there, they would have someone else to entertain them. He would bask in their attention and she would laugh the moment he made a fool of himself. Poor little Ludwig would have his cheeks pinched too many times for his liking, but he had never been a fussy child. After all the pleasantries, they would sit themselves in their theatre box and admire her husband at work. Gilbert would sit there and adore. He would no longer have snide words, cruel insults, or stupid pranks. Ludwig, who by then would have been up way past his bedtime, would begin to dose off.

They had sat in that same theatre box together over ten-years-ago. Roderich was silently fuming _because Gil and Lizzy would not be quiet_. It somehow ended up with a fist fight between the two boys, which she tried to break up. Gilbert punched her in the stomach – she broke his nose. From then on the boys never got into fist fights again, but verbal spats were common. When their parents, who had been grabbing more champagne, came back and saw the blood dripping from Gilbert's nose to his shirt, all three of them had been grounded for the rest of that stay in Vienna.

Gilbert never counted back then. He doesn't count around Roderich and her anymore either, but he did once. He counted everything after he came back from a war he was too young to join, and he counted after their marriage – why hadn't they invited him?

There was a knock on the window and Gilbert came in through the kitchen door.

"Lizzy! You haven't hired a cleaning staff yet, one would think that with all the concerts your husband puts on each week, you'd be able to hire a maid for every room in this place!" _loud and obnoxious as always._

"I think one or two would do fine, people would suspect I'm trying to avoid my wifely duties if I hire too many," she laughed. She could use some help dusting.

"There's more to wifely duties than cooking and cleaning you know," he said smirking.

"I fulfill those well enough, thank you very much," she retorted.

He probably had another lewd comment to make from the way his mouth hung but Ludwig had chosen that moment to come into the kitchen. The boy had grown since she had last seen him. He would be taller than his brother.

"Good afternoon Miss Elizabeta," the boy said shyly.

"If you're going to insist on formalities West, remember it's Frau Edelstein," Gilbert huffed out.

She had not changed her last name with the marriage, but she would make no reference of the event in front of Gilbert. Instead she gave a sad smile and said "don't worry about it Ludwig, Frau makes me feel old."

"Now, let me show you two to your rooms," with effort, the smile on her face became more genuine, "you two have to rest up. Tonight's going to be long; I'll let you know when lunch is ready, so, take your time."

"Don't worry we already ate."

Of course they did; it was past noon. She frowned again.

* * *

**Ludwig:**

Ludwig could see the wide street across from his window. The room Elizabeta had given him was bright and open; it lacked grandness and décor of the old Edelstein Manor or even his own grandfather's house in Berlin. The furniture though, appeared to have belonged in the old house rather than this one. He began to unpack his belongings. Everything had been neatly placed in the trunk first folded by him and then folded again by his brother. By the time he finally learned to properly fold short pants he would not be wearing them anymore. He knew there was a large park a few blocks down. Maybe he could go out and play for while before having to get ready for dinner and the theatre. He finished laying his clothing in the chest of drawers, and hurried downstairs.

The adults where gathered in the music room drinking tea out cups that probably belonged to Roderich's grandmother. His brother lay on the couch, the way he always did when they came to visit, and listened to Roderich play. He would probably fall asleep right there and Elizabeta would wake him less than half an hour before dinner just to watch him scramble to get ready. Roderich would be the one to make them all late though, because despite having started to ready himself an hour earlier he was slow to do anything. Ludwig stood at the door and announced he was going down to the park to play. His Brother raised his head look at him, nodded, and told him to be back before six.

He hadn't spoken to children his age in a very long time, ever since he had hit his head he had been home-schooled. He probably didn't have many friends to begin with though. He doesn't remember any. He had not come to the park to make friends though, just to enjoy the open space and greenery. He liked trees. He was getting taller and could reach some of the lower branches them pull himself up.

He was about to start climbing when heard a rattling coming from the upper branches.

"_Senti, Lovino sei tu_?" someone called from one of the higher branches in Italian nonetheless.

"I don't speak Italian" Ludwig called back in German.

Luckily, for the boy in the tree, he replied in thick accented German, "I'm stuck, please help me."

Ludwig looked all the way up through the branches to see a small boy holding on. He was hugging the trunk for dear life and hiding his face away.

"You're not that far from the ground, just look down!" Ludwig shouted.

"But I'm scared!" the boy shouted back.

"Then why did you climb all the way up?" Ludwig asked getting annoyed.

"To prove to my brother that I'm brave," suddenly the boy stuck in the tree seamed a lot less foolish, and Ludwig began to climb. When he stood just below the boy he offered his hand to him. The boy accepted, and, under their combined weight, the branch snapped.

_He had jumped in to the water after the other._

They both landed mostly unhurt except for some bruises and scratches. Ludwig stood up to see the other boy staring at him in shock. The Italian boy burst into tears, "I'm sorry, everything is always my fault!" he cried.

Ludwig's head hurt, and before he knew it he was crying as well. Ludwig never cried. He did the only thing he thought he could do, and ran leaving behind the crying Italian.

He ran back to the house never slowing. He walked through the back door without bothering to put on a brave face before he entered the house. His head hurt and he did not care. He was sad and he wanted to cry. He ran up to his room and slammed the door.

It was Ludwig's fault they were late this time.

* * *

**Francis:**

Francis spent too much time in the big cities, but he liked it well. Back when, as a younger man, he was doing his military service he spent too much time in the country side. Now he dealt art. This, of course, kept him around the most interesting circle of people; from the new artists from working class families to European royalty. Lately he had been going back and forth from Paris to Vienna. The Viennese were strange. While they had such a strong source of new art from secessionist artists, they still preferred the old classical forms. These classical forms where disappearing in Paris. Tonight was not about paintings or sculptures but about a performance, and the Pianist's wife was standing right in front of him dressed in green silk.

"Ah, Eliza, after the last time, one might think you've gotten tired of these events," he did like to instigate.

"Good evening to you too Francis," she said rather harshly, "but, actually after that time, I've learned how to better enjoy myself." She flashed a flask.

Francis smiled, a bit conflicted at that, Eliza and Roddy brushed the worst things off, and laughed about them later. They had probably learned that from a younger Gilbert.

"Now, where's that husband of yours, has he already left for the performance hall?" Francis asked casually.

"Oh, I had left him, Gilbert and Ludwig chatting with some women a while ago."

"You left them to the wolves."

"They're big boys they can take care of themselves."

"Little Ludwig is eleven," Francis huffed out.

Arguing for the sake of argument is quite the art, "well he's almost taller than me."

Someone slapped Francis on the back, "French man, I didn't know you'd be here today!"

"Ah, Gilbert, my friend, I believe we've all come to enjoy the same performance tonight," Frances said with a smile. Gilbert's eyes glittered for moment.

"If that's what you're after, I know one that's already tired of their marriage," he was being cruel again; Eliza might kill him tonight if he kept it up.

"But who is to say I'm tired of mine," he'd gotten married, around the same time as Eliza and Roderich , to a lovely English woman named Alice. Alice, sadly, had not accompanied him to Vienna this time. She had family business to attend to in The States.

The crowed had started moving from the grand staircase to the auditorium. So, the three of them did as well. Ludwig came in running afterwards, cheeks red.

The lights dimmed and the curtains opened; Roderich started playing his piano rendition Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

_It started with invoking of the Muses. Skeletal figures, yet beautiful, tall and human, prayed; dressed in gold – a Hero appeared._

Francis turned his head slightly to look at his friends. They were both lost in the music. Eyes fixed on the pianist. He wondered if they even saw the Gorgons.

Gilbert suddenly looked up and nudged Eliza with his elbow. She didn't look at him. She simply passed him the flask.

The show ended and Ludwig had fallen asleep, but the crowed would be moving on to the nearby bars.

* * *

**Elizabeta:**

It was decided after the show that Gilbert would go home with Ludwig, and later, if he felt up to it, join the other three for drinks. The gin they had been drinking had left a warm feeling in Elizabeta, and a smile plastered on her face. Roderich offered her his arm. She took it, "You played wonderfully tonight, love."

Roderich looked at her again, a bit of shock and disappointment in his eyes, but he remained composed, "have you been drinking?"

"Of course," she said with a toothy grin. She had made him angry. He would not say anything but tomorrow he would sit at the piano and not give her a spare glance. He would not snap at her though, he would just pick a fight with Gilbert or maybe with Francis, but not with her.

"Shall we continue?" Frances asked.

They nodded and followed.

When they arrived at the bar, patrons lined up to shake hands with Roderich and congratulate him on his performance. He basked in the attention and kindly thanked them. They offered him drinks and place to sit, to his companions too of course. He would talk animatedly about music with them – accept a drink or two. She was glad for him, but she was also bored. She went up to the bar for another drink.

Roderich, who was still chatting with his fans, took out a cigarette; Gilbert who had just arrived struck a match to light it. Roderich looked flustered, but he let Gilbert light his cigarette.

"So why didn't you invite Gilbert to the wedding?" Francis was staring intently at her, looking for answers in her face rather than in what she might say. He was trying to scope out lies, and create truths.

She smiled. The smoke and alcohol had gone to her head.

"Because we love him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Thank you, to those who have reviewed. It makes me really happy. The next chapter might take a while since I have midterms and might then travel for spring break, but don't worry much of this story is already planned out and it will be finished eventually.

**Kisses [They] Gave Us, and Wine:**

**Vienna, December 1910:**

**Roderich:**

He sat at his piano practicing, like always. He tried to get at least an hour every day, and the weeks a before a performance he would spend all day sitting at the piano. As a child he had spent many hours at the piano as well, while the girl who became his Lovely Wife and the Prussian Idiot kicked up dirt in the garden. They had both been monstrous children, but they had been his best friends. Kicking up dirt, climbing trees and chasing birds had never really appealed to him but they always invited him along. He would join them in some of the more sensible activities like; riding, fishing and swimming – he mostly waded in the shallows away from Gilbert, who was apt to come up with pranks. The other two would sometimes join him in the music room of the summer residence. They would be sweaty and covered in dirt, but they would sit on the arm chairs and listen to him play while one of the maids brought refreshments and snacks.

* * *

_**Edelstein Summer Home, August 1895:**_

_ Roderich glared daggers from behind his mother's skirt at the evil freak standing by its own mother. Its crimson eyes followed him with a frown on its face. "Play nice you two," his own mother had said; but how could he even be civil with this creature. It had stormed into the piano room while he had been practicing, and smashed its grubby hands onto the glistening ivory keys of his beautiful piano. The summer holidays had been spent trying to avoid the monster, who might have not been a monster, but was definitely crazy. It would insist he got up from the piano and race to the kitchen or roll in leaves. If Roderich did not agree to join its shenanigans, it would hang around the music room telling inane stories or as it called them, "Awesome Adventures." Most of the time, Roderich could ignore everything said to him and practice over all the ruckus. Sometimes it would all be too much and he would lose his patience and yell at the other, telling him to leave. It was a Nuisance in the music room anyway. _

_Those times, Gilbert would sit in the hallway and quietly sulk. If Roderich came out of the music room, Gilbert would run down the hall and pretend to have been doing something in some other room all along. If his mother happened to come by for some reason to check up on him, he would run up to her before she made it to the music room and demand that she too play something on the piano. Gilbert's mother, a tall blonde woman with sharp features, of course would ask Roderich if she could borrow the piano for a while. Roderich had never refused her. Gilbert would sit next to her while she played. Then, having weaseled his way back into the music room, after his mother had left, he would continue to annoy Roderich._

* * *

This house, despite being in a bustling center, was much quieter than his memories. The house of his memory, to begin with, had a full cleaning staff that was always busing around. The new house was nice and modern and consisted of the ground and first floor apartments of a building with no elevator. Instead of having a full staff, they had one live-in maid; because his wife insisted on doing most of the cooking and cleaning herself. She could have been off joining the rest of the ladies at whatever it was ladies did with their time. He knew Elizabeta could sew, embroider and knit. She could join one of those clubs. There were book clubs too. His mother and aunts always joined clubs. The house would then be filled with cackling women discussing things that sometimes had very little to do with sewing. He knew, when left to her own devices, she spent her time going to art exhibitions, and drinking with old friends at cafes. Yet many of their friends weren't around too often. She used to fence, but now she was lacking a partner; and while fencing was a gentleman's sport, it did not seem completely appropriate for society ladies.

He heard the door open behind him, but he did not stop playing.

"Gilbert and Ludwig will be joining us for Christmas," Elizabeta began. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was holding a stack of letters. "Francis and Antonio are in the city for the season as well and plan to join us on Christmas Eve," she continued. Right, there was the Christmas party. They were inviting colleagues and old friends over on Christmas Eve and the preparations had kept his wife busy. Gilbert had not been in Vienna for Christmas in two or three years. The only excuse for it had been a snide remark last time they asked why he would not join them for the festive season – _"I didn't know I was invited."_ It had shocked him to hear that, and it had obviously struck Elizabeta. She had almost dropped the tea.

Elizabeta had sat on the couch waiting for him to finish playing. When he finished, he turned to her and asked, "Are you glad he's coming this year?"

"Of course, maybe he's finally forgiven us." Things had not been the same with Gilbert since he found out they had not invited him to their wedding or told him they were getting married. Even when they started talking again, things had changed between them, and Gilbert had reverted to old habits; the one's that came out when he was relatively unhappy or lonely. He had never been that way as a child.

* * *

_**Edelstein Summer Home, August 1896:**_

_Roderich knew the evil freak was back for the summer because its parents were here. His mother had also informed him that there would also be another "friend" joining them. If the new child was just as rowdy as the other one, he would never find a moment of peace. He walked into the music room to find a girl about his age having tea with a porcelain doll. She looked up and waved. He had been too shy to talk to her. The second time he saw her was later that afternoon, but he did not recognize her._

_The evil freak came running into the music room, followed by a boy with shoulder length brown hair. Both of them had mud on their short pants and socks and on their hands. They both had sticks in their hands._

"_I, the awesome knight Gilbert, shall defeat you," the evil freak shouted at the other boy._

"_Your skills are no match for mine sir," said the other boy preparing for a sword fight._

_They just had to pick the music room for their sword fight. They would stain his precious piano with their grubby fingers and break a stand if they started fighting. Of course, they had to start their 'sword fight'. Gilbert was the first launch forward and attack, the other boy easily blocked and struck back poking Gilbert in the stomach in the process. Gilbert dramatically held his 'wound'._

"_This is nothing; the awesome knight does not fall from a scratch."_

"_But a wise one knows when to surrender," countered the other boy._

"_I shall never surrender!" Gilbert said theatrically._

"_Just give it up already, you've been defeated," Roderich said, he wanted them out of the room. The other boy looked at him, smiled and waved, "hello again," said the other boy. Roderich looked at him right in the eye. Oh. He turned to Gilbert, "and by a girl."_

"_Hey don't call my new friend a Girl!"_

"_But I am a girl," said the Girl._

_Roderich didn't know why she was wearing boys' clothes._

"_Then why are you wearing boys' clothes?" asked Gilbert, horror growing on his face._

"_Oh, so that I would not dirty or tear my dresses playing outside." She answered simply and smiling as if it was all simple and obvious._

"_I'm Elizabeta by the way," she said smiling at both of them. Gilbert hadn't even asked her name. He had probably just dragged her out to play._

"_That's improper; girls shouldn't wear boys' clothes!" Gilbert said too loudly. While Roderich agreed with Gilbert, he wouldn't tell the other boy that, and it seemed completely sensible of the girl to not want to dirty or tear her dresses. What didn't seem sensible was that she was actually playing outside in the heat and dirt. And with the Freak._

"_Please forgive the monster, he doesn't know better," Roderich looked at Gilbert with contempt. _

"_Traitor!" this time Gilbert actually shouted and with that he left the room._

_Elizabeta watched him leave, then turned back to Roderich, "What a strange kid."_

"_Indeed," Roderich agreed._

* * *

"I think we should go to the country side this summer," Elizabeta said bringing him back to the present.

"Really, have you already started making plans to leave?" he asked.

"Not really, but last time we traveled was our honey moon."

"You did not like Egypt?"

"I loved it; it's just Vienna is sad during the summer, and the country side is so beautiful." She had sat down on the couch but she was still looking through the letters as she spoke.

"I forgot to mention we were invited to Sperlonga for the summer, though."

"But, Roderich, you hate the beach."

"But you don't."

Elizabeta looked up at him and smiled, "no, I don't."

* * *

**December 24****th**** 1910:**

Roderich had finished readying himself for the Christmas party about an hour before guests were set to arrive, since he was always chided to for taking so long to get ready. It wasn't his fault he liked to take his time, and do things properly. He would, of course, be in charge of the music and entertainment for the night while his lovely wife made sure the guests were properly attended to. It was not meant to be a big gathering, but a few old friends had not been properly introduced to some old ones. Elizabeta was better at pleasantries and making sure everyone was happy and getting along than him anyway. She also had a tendency to be better at reading the mood and situation.

Gilbert and Ludwig had joined them in Vienna two days ago. The younger of the two had scarcely left the house or even his guest room in the past two days. Actually, since a slight mishap last time he was visiting, he didn't seem to keen on going anywhere, especially not by himself. Roderich knew this had worried Gilbert tremendously, and by extension worried him. Gilbert had been trying to get his younger brother out of the house, either to go to the Christmas markets or to go to the park, even the theatre. Gilbert had recruited Elizabeta and himself in his endeavors, but nothing they did seemed to work.

"Ludwig and Gil are ready and waiting in the music room, if you're ready you should go downstairs and keep them company while I finish up," Elizabeta spoke from behind him. The servant girl, Lili, was helping her into her corset. Lili was a sweet obedient girl, who couldn't be more than fifteen or sixteen, Roderich had never asked. The only problem with the little servant girl was her extremely irritable brother, Vash, who sometimes came and fixed things in the house when they broke, for the extra pay. Lili would be going to spend the holiday with her brother, so Elizabeta would do all the after party clean-up.

"Or at least make sure he doesn't break anything while on his own," Elizabeta continued.

"Alright, I'll see you in a while…" he said standing up and heading for the door. Elizabeta probably wanted to discuss something with Lili that was not meant for him to hear, and he would give them that much space. He made his way down the stairs and into the music room, where Gilbert and Ludwig were talking.

"Really West, I know you don't want to tell me what happened but you can't just lock yourself away every time we come to Vienna."

"Nothing happened."

"Only if you say so, fine, don't tell big brother what's going on, let him ponder upon the mental health of his little brother who's slowly becoming a hermit."

"I'm not a hermit, I like going outside when I'm in Germany." Ludwig was still being difficult on the subject. He had been difficult with the subject since Gilbert had rushed up the stairs after his crying brother about three months ago.

"So, did you get into a fight with some kid and never want to socialize again?"

"You don't like to socialize all the much either, so why should I." That one probably struck a chord with Gilbert. Roderich wasn't going to interrupt this conversation just yet.

"Well, I do try though."

Roderich was lucky that the door bell rang at that moment and he no longer had an excuse to awkwardly listen to conversations that were not his to hear. Instead of waiting for one of the ladies to get the door as he usually did, he went to greet the visitors himself.

The first to arrive was Francis, much to Roderich's dismay. Francis would have spent the holiday alone with his lovely English bride, but she had decided to spend the holiday with her family; and as much as Francis loved Alice, he could not stand the rest of her family. They didn't like him either, and apparently both parties had given up trying to make nice.

The last of the guests to arrive, were an old Italian gentleman, his grandsons and their tutor, Antonio, who had been a childhood friend of Roderich's. The old Italian, Romulus (Romulo), man had also been an a family friend, and always called upon the young couple when in Vienna. He was maybe a bit too eccentric for Roderich's taste but the usual party guests loved his company. Roderich had also seen the old man's grandchildren grow up. The older of the two, Lovino, was fourteen, and a brat. The younger one, Feliciano, was about Ludwig's age had all the grace his older brother lacked.

"My friend, it's been so long!" Antonio greeted Roderich, he was as cheery as ever. He never seemed to be down. Even though, at time's Roderich had done anything that might have been deemed exceptionally cruel, Roderich had learned that Antonio's look of disappointment could probably force the devil to confession. Antonio himself was not a saint by any means, but he always seemed to expect the best of others.

"Indeed, it has," Roderich agreed smiling at his friend, "but let us moves on, you are an hour late and dinner is to be served soon."

He led the last of the guests inside to where everyone was animatedly chatting. Feliciano ran straight to Elizabeta, who was chatting with the wives of some associates of his, to hug her.

"Ve ~ Miss Eliza you look so pretty!" he said throwing his arms to hug her, and she, smiling like she did when she found things unbearably cute, reciprocated. A very long time ago, when Feliciano was still very small, and all their families had been gathered together for the summer, Eliza had had the marvelous idea of dressing Feliciano up in one of her old dresses. She had even fooled Roderich into thinking Feliciano was a girl. Feliciano's mother had found the son to be '_carissimo_'.

"Feli, how you've grown!"

"Do you think so," he said standing up taller, he really hadn't grown too much since the last time they saw him, but his wife would not tell the boy that.

"And, Lovino you're practically a man!" She said turning to the older brother.

Lovino, who had never been too social or the recipient of much attention due to his foul mood, turned red and hid behind Antonio.

Gilbert had come up to chat with Antonio, they usually had bad stories about when one or the other was inebriated. Apparently, Ludwig had retreated to his room, and Gilbert was more than a bit concerned since Ludwig and Feli had once been good friends. By extension it bothered Roderich as well.

* * *

**Lovino:**

Lovino hated Austria. Roderich was a jerk and Elizabeta's exuberance outmatched even the Spaniard's. It was in his code of ethic to not hate women though. Last time they had come to visit Vienna, he had found his brother in the middle of the park crying, and it was that kid Ludwig's fault again.

He hated the blond German kid and his albino brother. They were both weird. He never understood his brother's friendship with him, and when the German lost his memory he thought it for the better. His brother though, had been inconsolable for weeks. The stupid potato eater had jumped into the ocean to save him and hit his head on a rock. It had been the older potato eater and Antonio who had succeeded in pulling the two of them from the ocean. Feliciano had been okay once he caught his breath but the blond boy did not wake up.

Lovino had been a coward.

They had sat down for dinner and the first course consisted of potatoes. He did not touch them. Antonio had urged him to try them, but Antonio liked everything and everyone, and thus his opinion was far from valid.

He was old enough that the adults let him have a cup of wine, sometimes more if they were not paying particular attention to him – usually they were not.

"Ve~ Lovi do you think Ludwig remembers now?" The younger potato eater hadn't showed himself all night, but he had to be here because his idiot brother was here.

"Why do you even care? Just accept that he might never remember anything, and you're an idiot for hoping he will." Antonio would have told Lovino not to be mean to his brother, but Lovino was not being mean, he was being realistic; and his brother was better off without the potato eater anyway.

Feliciano's eyes had become watery though, and if he started crying completely, everyone would rush to him to console him; and like always, Lovino would be the bad guy. Luckily, Antonio arrived just in time to calm his brother with the right words and a kind smile.

"Don't worry Feli, Ludwig and you were friends, he might not remember but you do and the connection is still there."

"What if he remembers and hates me?"

"I don't think anyone could hate you, especially not Ludwig."

That had done the trick. Feliciano had scampered off smiling.

"What if you're wrong?" Lovino turned to Antonio, "what if the potato eater does hate him?"

Antonio gave him soft smile, "You don't jump off cliff to save the people you hate."

"What does that say about me then."

* * *

_**Paris June 1922:**_

"_Would you like more Absinthe?"_

"_Pour away, dearest."_

"_You should not drink to cure loneliness."_

"_Neither should you."_

"_I rarely take my own advice."_

"_Then why did you take mine?"_

"_We were silly children."_

"_We are silly adults."_

"_No."_

"_We thought we could fix things through shear will."_

"_We thought we could fix each other."_

"_But you held me together."_

"_We could have let things go."_

"_Not without breaking."_

"_Yet, I would have had you broken."_

"_We would always be friends."_

"_What do we have now if not our friendship?"_

"_I could have loved you."_


End file.
